


Stories I Tell Myself

by BlackIndiaInk



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, F/F, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:15:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackIndiaInk/pseuds/BlackIndiaInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is about a lot of things: love, forgiveness, mental illness, and the stories we tell ourselves to get by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Break

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I was compelled to write due to many reasons, mainly my own experiences and those of friends. It will be a multichapter fic dealing with love, forgiveness, mental illness, and the stories you tell yourself to stay intact. I hope it strikes a chord with you guys. Please give me your feedback and let me know what you think. Whether it be your own experiences or thoughts on the writing.
> 
> Thanks to Scribbledscenes for her input and continued support.

Three minutes into the sweaty, heart pounding, shiver inducing episode and Aubrey was on the floor. Her body was curled around itself like she could disappear into it. The imploding particles of her body could shrink into nothingness if she just tried, wished hard enough. Instead of relaxing her these thoughts made her curl tighter into a ball, forcing her to jam her shoulder into the corner where two walls met. The ache seemed permanent and the muscle twitches came at the will of her body. The mess of a person in the floor wasn’t who she presented to the world. Precious few knew this Aubrey Posen.

She counted in her head; one, two three. Each second marched along, one after the other until they amassed, like ants on a hill ,to create a minute. Once the minutes built up to five she started over because that was the frequency of the pattern. Counting mattered because it always lasted fifteen minutes. Then she could try to be real again. The tension in her muscles would unwind like each fiber had been released from confinement. She would grow to her normal size like she had dosed herself with the magic amount of moments. 

This was different. The trigger wasn’t a grade or hurtful words taken out of context. It was loss. Three years of keeping quiet, not believing in deserving to be happy, not wanting to know if Chloe could love her back. Three years ending in Chloe with someone else. The fact was like the repeating chorus of a catchy song. She hated it but reminding herself of the facts helped her refrain from crying out because if she did Chloe would come. She would try to make it better but the nearness of what she couldn’t have would make it worse. Then she would know what was in Aubrey’s heart. 

She counted up to fifteen minutes. Three times she started over and when it was done the relief didn’t come like normal. She only clenched tighter and wished more. The numbers went on and the panic grew. Her eyes darted from one shadowy pattern on the wall to another. None of them registered as anything but monsters haunting her. The ceiling fan creaked from being off balance but to her ears it sounded like taunts. Her hands went to her ears when every sound became a shout. She needed to block them out. Her voice needed to pierce them all, throw them aside. 

Outside someone passed by bouncing a basketball, the sound of dishes rattling in the kitchen, there was music playing loud in the apartment above them, and she couldn’t mash her fingers far enough into her ears to stop it. Her body shook, almost convulsed in it’s frozen state. The scream was deep down inside her, gathering strength. It swirled like a storm and made it’s way up into her belly. She could feel its power. It was a dead language, something she had never spoken before. 

Blessed peace came as her ears filled with the sound of a voice so raw with hurt. She did not know it came from her own throat until it started to hurt. The scream ended with a keening wail. the oxygen having all turned to carbon dioxide. The pounding on the door came next. The lock was engaged so she didn’t worry about about the immediate entry of her friend but she did forget to lock the connecting door to the bathroom. So, she waited, unable to release just yet. 

A redheaded streak burst through the bathroom door, followed by a face peeking around the door frame. Chloe fell to her knees in front of Aubrey, hands going to her face, staring into the blank eyes before her. “Aubrey,” she said. It didn’t work. The cold of Chloe’s hands took the warmth away from her skin. “Aubrey. Look at me. It’s me, Chloe!” She smoothed away the hair from Aubrey’s face and let the soothing words fall from her lips in a quiet murmur. It wasn’t the first time but it had been so long since she had to try to make Aubrey come back from the frenzy in her mind. 

Aubrey’s eyes focused finally and she saw how close Chloe was to her. Now, the muscles shook out all at the same time and her body flopped like a ragdoll. In seconds she was wrapped in protective arms. The embarrassment that would come later was delayed by relief. Chloe moved so that she was beside her on the floor, gathering her body as close as possible so that most of Aubrey was in contact with her. 

She looked up and saw that someone else was there. Beca’s eyes, wide and frightened, peered at her from scant feet away. Tears welled in her eyes and started to fall. Nowhere seemed to be safe, even Chloe’s arms. She looked away, tucking her head into Chloe’s chest and missing the hand motion signaling Beca to retreat. When she didn’t count the minutes went fast and she was too tired to notice that she was being tugged up and into her bed. She was too drunk on her own crazy to notice that Chloe slipped in behind her. Hands slipped across her torso where her shirt had risen. They were followed by forearms and locked with the final movement of Chloe’s elbow tucking into place against her body. 

It was the only way she wanted to fall asleep and when morning came it was the only way she wanted to wake up. Their legs were wrapped together, her head rested against Chloe’s collarbone, and her right hand was clasped inside strong fingers. It should be heaven but the taint of last night’s fear gave the embrace a different purpose. It didn’t mean the same thing to both of them. She moved, gently picking Chloe’s arm up and disentangling from her body. When she stood and looked down Chloe still slept. That’s when she left. The sight of her peaceful slumber was a last catalyst that pushed her beyond questioning the necessity of her actions. When her body filled with love and it shone out of her like light, she could no longer keep it in check.

She went through the bathroom to her bedroom and packed her bags. Shirts, pants, underwear, and her toiletries. Essentials were all she needed right now. The rest weren’t important, not where she was going. She took a last look around, stepping back to her nightstand to lift the small picture frame up. She shoved it in her messenger bag, grabbed her suitcase, and closed the door behind her. In the living room, she found Beca asleep on the couch. She had the throw pulled over her and her hand was tucked under her head. It was peaceful. She looked different at rest, more pleasant than the antagonistic, defensive girl she usually was. 

She looked back towards the bedroom and then down at Beca again. One last glance between the two and she extended the handle of the suitcase and rolled it towards the door. Her attempt at stealth was not a success. Beca sat up and stared at Aubrey’s back. She rubbed her eyes, clearing away the last of the sleep. “Where are you going?”

Aubrey stopped in her tracks. Her head swiveled around slowly until she could see Beca. “I’ve just gotta go.” Hard eyes bore into Beca, daring her to make this a standoff. “I can’t be here right now.” She opened the door and set the suitcase across the threshold. “Don’t wake up Chloe.”  
Beca’s brow creased, the harshness of the demand took her aback. “So, you’re just going to sneak out without saying goodbye to her?” Since day one they challenged each other, justification being their differences and the judgement they threw at each other, but Beca knew how much Aubrey meant to Chloe. Probably, more than she liked but if you take Chloe you get Aubrey too. It hadn’t been exactly easy for them to get along but for Chloe’s sake they gave each other room to be. 

“No, I said goodbye.” She throws the words over her shoulder and walks out the door, closing it softly behind her. The guilt chased her down the hall and smacked into her heart. The letter she left on the pillow was a hollow attempt at saying all the things that she couldn’t manage to get out of her mouth. She was right. It wasn’t fair but it was what she needed. All the stress, all the past issues and her attachment to Chloe, it broke her. She was no longer able to function. It was the second time she was retreating in an attempt to gather the little slips of sanity that she kept inside her mind. She made it to the stairs and rushed down them. If she got to the parking lot there was little chance of getting caught.

Chloe rolled over, the crinkling sound of paper, waking her from her slumber. She reached up, eyes still closed, and pulled the paper away from her cheek and rolled back over onto her back. Her arms stretched out in front of her as she inspected the clean, white sheet. It was torn from her notebook that sat on the desk. The purple and pink lines were familiar. She blinked and drew it closer, reading the words. They weren’t coherent at first, just a jumble of neat handwriting. The marks made by the pen cut deep into the paper making an impression like braille on the back that her fingers slid over. The texture helped her focus. 

Dear Chloe,

Don’t be angry. I need to go, at least for awhile. Don’t try to find me. You won’t be able to. I think we both know that I need some help and some time to fall out of love with you. Saying that, I love you. I’m sorry I never told you but you obviously had other options. I will contact you and let you know I’m okay. 

Love,  
Aubrey


	2. To Worry is to Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe worries about Aubrey, Beca worries about Chloe, and Aubrey is too unconscious to worry.

Three weeks and Chloe was going mad. Genuine soul eating worry was foreign to her and so was coping with it. There was no trace of Aubrey. Not one of their mutual friends had been in communication with her or even heard anything about her leaving. Chloe chewed the inside of her lip, teasing the raw flesh with her teeth. The action and the pain it caused served as a distraction from the plethora of scenarios and nightmares her mind conjured up. Aubrey in an accident, kidnapped, in a hospital somewhere, but the one that scared her the most was Aubrey being perfectly fine. If she was out there somewhere tanning on a windswept beach Chloe was going to be so pissed. 

Her hand encased the mouse as she moved it to click on Aubrey’s Facebook profile. She checked it every few minutes just in case. No activity, she sighed and sank back into her desk chair. A knock on the door made her turn her tired head towards the noise. The darkness had come long ago and she hadn’t even noticed until it obscured her view. The clock read eight, three hours later than she expected it to be. 

Beca pushed open the bedroom door and lifted a take out box into the air. “I got your favorite.” She left the entryway to set the styrofoam box down beside the computer. Her hand, warm from carrying the food, made it’s way to Chloe’s shoulder and then around down her arm as she pushed her hair back to place a kiss on Chloe’s cheek. She looked down at the computer screen and then at her girlfriend’s profile. “Have you even moved since I left?”

Chloe crossed her forearms in front of the keyboard, closed her eyes and looked up, a heavy sigh escaping her. “Yes, I have, in fact, moved.” Her head rolled around to face Beca. “I actually went down to the coffee shop for awhile.” She covered Beca’s hand with her own. Worrying was a regular part of their lives now. Chloe worried about where the hell Aubrey was, Beca worried about Chloe, and they both worried about what all this meant for them. 

Insecurities were Beca’s curse and the closeness that Chloe and Aubrey shared seemed like a veiled threat to her happiness from day one. Logically, she trusted Chloe, emotionally she trusted no one, especially not herself. So, the sadness and uncharacteristic moodiness that Chloe was exhibiting made her nervous. That itching feeling was starting in her stomach, like ten million bees stirring inside her. “Well, here eat your food.” 

She sat down on the bed, releasing Chloe’s hand. The light cast by the desk lamp gave the room a cozy glow. Beca loved Chloe’s room. It was like home. Everything was orderly in a chaotic way and her bedspread, a yellow and blue damask pattern, held many fond memories. It smelled of lavender and fig, a fresh scent that took her back to the first time she and Chloe made out. That hadn’t happened since Aubrey left. They exchanged the little endearments; quick touches, sweet words, and a kiss or two, but nothing like the hot and heavy make out sessions that she was used to. 

The container of food sat there, inactive because Chloe couldn’t bring herself to open it up just yet. Her stomach had not been right for days. Yet, her mouth watered, the smell of fresh tabbouleh and hummus making her want to rip the lid open. The thought of eating made her feel sicker but she slowly opened the container and looked inside. She could feel Beca staring at her and it did nothing to help her appetite. 

She reached in and picked up a piece of bread, dipping it in the hummus, bringing it to her lips. When she took a bite the flavor of garlic and garbanzo beans registered on her taste buds. It was delicious. Pushing, the rest of the bread into her mouth, she chewed and looked over at her girlfriend with a raised eyebrow. After she swallowed, a cheeky half grin stretched across her face. “You happy?”

Beca chuckled and used her feet to push off each of her shoes. “Yes,” she said as she scooted back on the bed until her back reached the wall. “I just wish you were.” The words were instinctual and incredibly true but, perhaps, not wise. Pressuring Chloe might push her further away, make her stop talking to Beca. She definitely wished the filter in her brain worked so she could stop blurting useless thoughts. 

“Well, I would be if I could find Aubrey,” Chloe said. She pushed the food aside and looked back at the computer screen. “If her sister would answer my Facebook message, maybe I’d feel a little better.” She moved the cursor over the link to her message inbox and just like magic a little red 1 appeared. “Woah,” Chloe muttered. 

Beca leaned forward so she could see what Chloe was looking at and snorted. “You’ve got superpowers.” She scooted back down the bed to see if the message was actually from Aubrey’s sister. 

Chloe opened the message tab, her breath coming quickly. Her heart pounded as the page loaded. The name popped up, Felicia Posen. Her eyes skimmed down to the message. 

_If it were up to me I would tell you where she is. She told me what is going on and that she thinks it’s best that you not see her. I think that’s crap. I promised that I wouldn’t tell but I never said that I wouldn’t give you a clue. She’s in paradise. If you know her as well as I think you do, you’ll figure it out._

It was cryptic but it was more than she had a minute ago. Her eyes darted to and fro, a manifestation of the manic speed of her thoughts. Paradise, it was one word with infinite interpretations. It could be part of a place name or a reference to something. She had no clue. 

“What does it say?” Beca asked from behind her. She was straining to look over Chloe’s shoulder, but the screen was blocked from her view. “Did you hear me?” She started to worry when no answer was forthcoming and it appeared she wouldn’t get one at all because Chloe wasn’t there anymore. Now, Beca could see the message. 

Instead she was bursting through the closed bathroom door and into Aubrey’s room, looking around wildly as if she expected to miraculously find her there sitting on the bed looking back at her with that endearing expression of annoyance. There was nothing but things, inanimate objects that once had life when Aubrey moved among them. She turned the overhead light on and went to the desk, opening drawers and pulling out papers. 

Chloe was sitting in the desk chair by the time Beca made it to the room. “What are you doing? And what does paradise mean?” Silence, aside from the rustling of Aubrey’s belongings, was all that met her questions. Beca’s patience was wearing thin. She didn’t have much to begin with and the non-communication. Seeing Chloe like this, so thrown off her axis, was bizarre. She was usually the most stable person emotionally. “Chloe,” she said, standing beside her. She reached down and shook Chloe’s shoulder. “Answer me.” 

Finally, Chloe looked up. Her hands stopped moving and she dropped the folder she held. “I have no idea, Beca. I know that my best friend left and the only explanation she gave me sucked. I have to find her. She could be hurt or in trouble.” She shrugged and then reached down to open the last drawer, moving aside the box of thumbtacks and extra staples. 

“But the Facebook message said that she was fine.” Beca’s stance was firm and her arms crossed over her chest. “If she doesn’t want to be found then maybe you should respect that.” That part of her ruled by emotions was talking again. “Chloe, just tell me what Aubrey wrote in the note.” The morning that Aubrey left Chloe would never tell her what the piece of paper said. It was private, a secret of Aubrey’s that Chloe didn’t feel comfortable sharing. She weighed the danger of pushing the subject. 

Chloe’s shoulders tensed and she stopped what she was doing. “No,” she turned, setting a box of pencils on the surface of the desk. “Please don’t ask me again.” Locking eyes, she reached out and tugged one of Beca’s hands loose, holding it between her own. “I promise it has nothing to do with you and it doesn’t affect us,” Chloe said. Her voice was so earnest and her eyes so soft that they shone at the edges as if she might cry. 

Neglecting Beca wasn’t her goal but she realized that she might do it anyway if she wasn’t careful. Right now her life was torn between her search for Aubrey and living her life. The pause button inside of her was stuck right now and she couldn’t move on until she had an answer. No one really knew the extent of Chloe and Aubrey’s bond and they probably never would. It’s source was locked away like forbidden tomes in an ancient library. Their relationship existed outside a defined line, it’s boundaries were blurry at best but they never questioned it, or at least Chloe hadn’t. Not until she read the note. Sometimes she took it out and read it again when she wanted to think about what Aubrey could have been thinking about when she wrote it. 

“Okay,” Beca said, nodding. She melted when Chloe looked at her like that. Fear was hidden behind her love in those moments but Beca had always been a sucker for vulnerable blue eyes. Her girlfriend was hurting, that was the priority, she reminded herself. Changing old habits was hard, but she would do her best to put aside her own uncertainty to be there for Chloe. 

“Great, now sit over there and keep me company while I go through this stuff.” Beca started to move away stretching their arms between them. “Wait,” she said and pulled her back, raising up to kiss her. One gentle, yet deep kiss and Beca was too drunk on Chloe’s lips to care anymore. She pulled back, taking the phantom sensation of their skin pressed together with her. Every time it left more of a mark on her, until she was in danger of falling completely. 

Obeying the request, and because she was a little weak in the knees, Beca sat down on Aubrey’s bed, bouncing a little with the impact. Chloe turned to keeping pulling things out of the lower drawer, placing each object aside until her hand reached the bottom. She pulled back, ready to move on but her hand brushed something hard, but not metal like the desk. It was softer than that and definitely made out of leather. Her fingers fumbled to find the edges of the object but it was wedged between the top of the drawer and the inside of the desk. 

She slid off the chair and crouched underneath the desk top. Her index finger found some leverage between the drawer and leather. Using as much strength as she could, she pulled hard, falling backwards onto her butt. “Oww,” she said, inhaling sharply. Her hand had scraped along the metal drawer but she was successful. She turned the… journal… calendar, whatever it was, over in her hand and opened it. The spine cracked from disuse and she focused on the first page. “Holy shit,” she whispered

At first Beca had wanted to surge forward but she could see that Chloe was fine. She chuckled at her girlfriend, sitting in a heap on the floor. “What is it?” She asked, between low laughs. 

Chloe turned the page, staring down at the meticulous handwriting of her best friend. “Uh, it’s her old journal,” she said. Her brows knitted. It seemed wrong to read it but considering everything going on she wanted to desperately. If the secret to what happened to Aubrey was in these pages she would read every one of them until she found it. Privacy be damned. In her mind, the moment Aubrey wrote that note, she ensured that Chloe would do everything in her power, even if it could be seen as a violation, to figure out where she went. 

With a look back to Beca, she closed the journal and pulled herself up by bracing against the bed. “Come on help me put this stuff back in here. It’s going to be a long night.” 

With pursed lips and a sideways glance, Beca hopped off the bed and grabbed several of the items on the desk. “Are you going to read it?” To her, it was a no brainer. She would have sat right there on the floor and looked through the entire thing but Chloe, as open as she was about her own dirty laundry, probably wouldn’t want to violate anyone else’s sanctum. That’s what a journal was, the place where safety was implied. 

Chloe nodded slowly, repositioning the stapler that had been knocked askew. “I am but I’m going to have to sit down and really get into it.” She looked up, taking a pained breath and a sheepish tone. “Would you mind if I rainchecked on the show?” Chloe pulled the journal into her chest and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. “I don’t think I’d be very good company until I see what’s in here.” 

It wasn’t a surprise but Beca felt disappointment all the same. Her neutral face wasn’t very convincing but she tried, for Chloe she would attempt to have faith. “No, that’s fine,” she said. “I’ll just introduce you to Luke another time.” Beca’s arms hung at her sides limply and she stopped helping Chloe put the contents of Aubrey’s desk back into place. “I can stay here, you know, keep you company.” She shrugged a shoulder. “If you want.” 

The folder was the only thing left so Chloe shoved it back inside the top drawer and turned to face her girlfriend. “No, you don’t have to do that. I know how much you wanted to see Luke’s set.” She reached out, pulling Beca closer to her. “Besides, I think I need to do this alone.” She loved having Beca around. That was an understatement. They spent so much time together now that she felt a little incomplete when Beca wasn’t there, but this felt private, like having someone else there would betray Aubrey’s confidence even more. 

“Oookay,” Beca said, standing in the doorway that led to Chloe’s room. “That’s cool, just text me when you’re done.” 

Chloe smiled, unwittingly making Beca warm to her again. “I will. Now, kiss me and get out of here. You’re going to be late. She was the one that leaned in first, cupping a hand on Beca’s cheek. She felt the brush of soft, brown hair and the caress of an exhaled breath before she pressed her lips to Beca’s one more time. Dropping the journal onto her bed, she committed herself to the kiss. Beca needed to know that Chloe was still hers. 

A text chime, heralded the end. Beca leaned back and pulled her phone from her back pocket to check the message. “It’s Luke. I gotta go.” With one last peck, she pulled away and gave Chloe a once over. “See you later,” she said. The end of the phrase turned up in inflection. 

“You will, definitely,” Chloe promised. She watched Beca go and then turned to her bed, staring the journal down. It was a grim task but she would do it. The pillows on the bed were in her way so she pushed them back and pulled the duvet down, picking up the journal as she slid into bed. “Aubrey,” she said into the ether. “I swear to god I will kill you if there’s any detailed descriptions of boring ass lectures in here.” She would read every word, regardless of the contents. Her relentless pursuit of Aubrey didn’t strike her as anything but that. She was too close to it to analyze the deeper currents rushing through her heart and mind. 

~~~

Light was coming from somewhere but the opacity of her eyelids kept most of it at bay. It was enough to bring her closer to wakefulness. The wet sliding of her tongue inside her mouth stirred the acidic taste lingering from the night before, bringing her to the brink. The clang of metal against metal rang out from down the hallway, completing the job that the morning light started. Aubrey’s eyelids flicked open and her eyes focused. It was white all around her, which was why the weak streaks of sunlight coming in from the windows across the hall were magnified. Beams bounced off the reflective paint, reeking havoc with her tired eyes. 

She leaned up when sense told her to. It was a tiny square room, containing nothing but a squat wooden bed, a plain motel quality night stand and a small dorm style desk with a wooden chair. It was completely familiar. Her head flopped back onto the pillow and her eyes shut tight. Maybe if she wished as hard as possible she would wake up again to find that this was a cruel dream. The sound of many soft rubber soled feet on concrete floors made her give up. It was true. The stark walls who’s dullness was broken only by a framed poster of a picturesque landscape with the word perseverance below. She was back in hell.


End file.
